Friday, September 27, 2013 – Little Dora/Itt
(Oh my goodness. I have aged 10 years in 5 years. In 2013 we still lived in Sudbury at 465 Loach’s Rd. Laur stilled worked at Laurentian University and I was between contracts. Still, I’m so grateful to be alive – even if very wrinkled and kinda saggy. Being 61 years of age is a gift denied to many…)
Had a great visit with my gynecologist this morning! Don’t worry, this will not be TMI.
I love Dr. R. She always wears heels, and she smiles a lot. Especially when she tells me that I have the FSH levels of woman in her twenties. In fact, she practically giggled. All this means is that my body is still ready, willing and able to reproduce. At age 56, I am the only woman she has met who – at my age - could still possibly “beget” - though I might give birth to something that resembles “Cousin Itt.”
I’m beginning to think I should look at marketing options. I’m pretty much unemployed these days anyways. Why not become a surrogate mother? The pay runs about $30,000 per pregnancy / birth – not bad for less than a year’s work. I liked being pregnant. Delivery, not so much, but with the walking epidural I could probably attend my regular Zumba class until I was ready to deliver. Good for me; perhaps not so great for the gym staff. Ah well.
The other option is that I could grow my own grandchildren. I only have one, and I don’t mean to be competitive, but I have friends who have half a dozen already. Of course, Laur would have to have a certain surgery reversed. And of course, there’d have to be some romance. But nine and a half months later, tra-da! A sister for Emma!
I do realize that Laur and I are a little old for the day-to-day and all-night baby care, but I’ve got an idea for that too. We simply bring the baby to Emma’s next birthday party, tell her the baby’s name is “Dora the Explorer” and tell her she can keep “it” if her mom and dad will let her. How could Anna and Neal tell their high-on-sugar-and-attention child, “No, you can’t have baby Dora. Give her back right now!”
I know that my daughter and son-in-law might be a little concerned about how they would be able to afford Little Dora – but with the money I could collect from The National Enquirer, I think all of us would be well set.
But I do have some competition. The record set for being the world's oldest natural mother was set by Dawn Brooke in Britain, who, at the age of 59, gave birth to a healthy baby boy. So I have four years to go if I want to beat out the competition – three if you factor in a year for pregnancy.
I might get some resistance from Laurence. I doubt he’d enjoy publicity of that nature - unless it could help him sell some Scrivener books. (If back-listed books were children, he’d be the granddaddy of all patriarchs.)
And even though I would plan to spring the offspring onto our unsuspecting kids, there’s a chance Emma would hand back little Dora, in favor of the plastic – and less competitive – version.
I love Dr. R. She always wears heels, and she smiles a lot. Especially when she tells me that I have the FSH levels of woman in her twenties. In fact, she practically giggled. All this means is that my body is still ready, willing and able to reproduce. At age 56, I am the only woman she has met who – at my age - could still possibly “beget” - though I might give birth to something that resembles “Cousin Itt.”
I’m beginning to think I should look at marketing options. I’m pretty much unemployed these days anyways. Why not become a surrogate mother? The pay runs about $30,000 per pregnancy / birth – not bad for less than a year’s work. I liked being pregnant. Delivery, not so much, but with the walking epidural I could probably attend my regular Zumba class until I was ready to deliver. Good for me; perhaps not so great for the gym staff. Ah well.
The other option is that I could grow my own grandchildren. I only have one, and I don’t mean to be competitive, but I have friends who have half a dozen already. Of course, Laur would have to have a certain surgery reversed. And of course, there’d have to be some romance. But nine and a half months later, tra-da! A sister for Emma!
I do realize that Laur and I are a little old for the day-to-day and all-night baby care, but I’ve got an idea for that too. We simply bring the baby to Emma’s next birthday party, tell her the baby’s name is “Dora the Explorer” and tell her she can keep “it” if her mom and dad will let her. How could Anna and Neal tell their high-on-sugar-and-attention child, “No, you can’t have baby Dora. Give her back right now!”
I know that my daughter and son-in-law might be a little concerned about how they would be able to afford Little Dora – but with the money I could collect from The National Enquirer, I think all of us would be well set.
But I do have some competition. The record set for being the world's oldest natural mother was set by Dawn Brooke in Britain, who, at the age of 59, gave birth to a healthy baby boy. So I have four years to go if I want to beat out the competition – three if you factor in a year for pregnancy.
I might get some resistance from Laurence. I doubt he’d enjoy publicity of that nature - unless it could help him sell some Scrivener books. (If back-listed books were children, he’d be the granddaddy of all patriarchs.)
And even though I would plan to spring the offspring onto our unsuspecting kids, there’s a chance Emma would hand back little Dora, in favor of the plastic – and less competitive – version.